


blood as rare and sweet

by crownsandbirds



Series: so, darling, play your violin (it's what you live for) [5]
Category: Given (Manga)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 02:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20184673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownsandbirds/pseuds/crownsandbirds
Summary: It’s impossible for Akihiko to stay away from Ugetsu after a performance.





	blood as rare and sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ikvros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikvros/gifts).
  * Inspired by [lying in a bed of greed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19927957) by [ikvros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikvros/pseuds/ikvros). 

> "the way he tells me I'm his and he is mine,  
open hand or closed fist would be fine;  
the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine."
> 
> (cherry wine - hozier)

The first time he sees Ugetsu playing, he feels his soul leaving his body through his mouth to trickle down the violin bow, pushed up and pressed against the strings, between dexterous, beautiful fingers, shifted into making music. A single, unbroken line of shimmering silver, wrapped around the edge of the bow, flickering in the air, Ugetsu's hands taking it for themselves and melting it into whatever form or shape he pleases. 

-

It’s impossible for Akihiko to stay away from Ugetsu after a performance. 

He wishes this were a metaphor; wishes it were just a linguistic exaggeration to portray just how bone-deep his desire goes - but it isn’t. After violin concertos, he can’t stop his hands from reaching for Ugetsu any more than he can stop his lungs from breathing and his heart from beating. Every other night, he tries to play a game with his own self-control to see how long he can keep himself from taking hold of Ugetsu’s waist and throwing him on the bed and getting drunk on the liquid heat of his body - sometimes, if he’s particularly exhausted from his routine, he can manage an hour at most; other times, he can’t deal with a single second more other than the interval strictly required for him to walk all the way to the dressing room, shut the door, press Ugetsu against the wall and ravish his mouth with his tongue. 

Ugetsu, for his part, changes moods with the same disorienting suddenness of a whiplash derived from a particularly awful car accident. In regards to Akihiko’s carnal desperation, his reactions shift in a seemingly completely random pattern that Akihiko has long given up on understanding and decided to just let it sweep him away, and hope for minimal damage and as much pleasure as possible. Because their greed is mutual and codependent like that. 

Some nights, Ugetsu will be the most vicious tease until they get home, whispering the filthiest descriptions in Akihiko’s ear, running his fingers up his arm and staying a hair’s breadth away from being touched, until Akihiko is one of his breathless wind-chime chuckles away from fucking him in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Other nights, like this one, after smirking and playing his way through one of his favorite concertos, he’ll all but throw himself in Akihiko’s arms, as pliant and warm to the touch as melted glass, his lips parted open and pleading - those times, Akihiko gets so completely, overwhelmingly entranced by him that all his thoughts are carried away and stolen from him, his mind overtaken by the way Ugetsu moans in his ear, by the scent of his perfume, the feeling of his hair between his fingers, the grip of his violinist hands on Akihiko’s shoulder as if he’s terrified of letting him go. 

They managed to control themselves during the entire drive home, which Akihiko personally considers the biggest demonstration of willpower they’ve both displayed to this day. They didn’t talk or bother with faking pointless conversation - Akihiko just kept staring at Ugetsu’s profile, the high arch of his cheekbones and the fall of his hair on his forehead and the graceful curve of his jaw, as unable of shifting his gaze to anything else as he’d be unable to consciously stop his heartbeat in its tracks. Ugetsu drove with the sharp precision of someone who only has one goal in mind, his grip white-knuckled on the wheel, his glance sometimes sliding over to Akihiko; and their eyes met, and Ugetsu shuddered from head to toe, his entire body prettily responsive to the weight of Akihiko’s attention. 

“Stop  _ looking _ at me like that,” he hissed, fingers tightening and loosening around the wheel in frantic little spasms. 

“Do you really want me to stop?,” Akihiko asked. 

Ugetsu’s beautiful cheeks heat up in a gorgeous flush; he lowered his head, took a deep breath, and whispered, “No.”

Akihiko smiled. “I know,” he said, his voice heavy with desire. He reached over, fit his palm on the soft place at the back of Ugetsu’s skull, just to see the way he shivered at the possessive contact. 

-

Akihiko knows this more intimately than he knows anything else in his life. Even the very rhythm of his own breath isn’t as deeply engraved in the curve of his spine as  _ this.  _ The movement of his fingers, the warmth and the sweat and the shift of his hands, the flesh and the blankets - he  _ knows  _ how to draw pleasure from the beauty made human lying under him. The hummingbird pace of Ugetsu’s heartbeat is more familiar to him than any song; the breathless moans easier to draw out than any note he’s ever played, any chord he’s ever stricken. 

He slowly draws his finger out, revels on the full-body shudder that flows through Ugetsu’s body for a blissful second before sliding two fingers back in, a slightly bigger strain into the soft give he’s been offered. Ugetsu cries out at that, throws his head back, the elegant curve of his neck inviting the touch of Akihiko’s thirsty lips. 

His hand is moving by itself now, his fingers shifting and moving and spreading inside the warmth of Ugetsu’s body as Akihiko watches his face, drinks in the breathtaking features he fell and continues to fall in love with. 

_ He’s so beautiful _ , Akihiko thinks, in a feverish daze, the cadence of the words in his mind rising in a crescendo together with Ugetsu’s musical moans. 

He could make him come like this, has done so multiple times before, drawn orgasms from the beautiful man under him through nothing more than the work of his fingers and the press of his teeth against the column of Ugetsu’s neck - and he has half a mind to do so, to watch the unravelling of the most gorgeous symphony on their bed. He’s lost in the imagery in the back of his eyelids, his eyes fluttering closed at the idea of Ugetsu shattering in pieces around his fingers - and then Ugetsu unclenches his fists from where they’ve been fiercely holding the blanket, and lifts his arms, and wraps them around Akihiko’s neck. 

“Aki,” he breathes out, his face flushed, his lips as red as wine from their kisses. His expression is open, honest as he never is out of their bedroom, the corners of his mouth soft with arousal. “Please.” 

It takes Akihiko a moment to absorb the meaning of the word Ugetsu just moaned out - if left to his own devices, Ugetsu  _ rarely _ shuts up, be it during sex or whenever else, and Akihiko usually takes it upon himself to make him stop talking and relax back and enjoy their conjoined heat; he’s always very successful in that regard, managing to coax Ugetsu into melting into a mess of whining and moaning Akihiko’s name; and so, to hear him actually say a word out loud comes off as a surprise. 

Akihiko’s fingers stall their movement just long enough so Ugetsu can whine out of what Akihiko can only comprehend as frustration before speaking up again, “ _ Please _ , god, just  _ do it _ .”

The realization of what exactly he’s pleading for shoots through Akihiko's spine with the same force as lightning. The heat that settles inside every nerve of his being comes out as a breathless, "Oh," and then he leans down and kisses Ugetsu like he won't be able to survive a single second more if he doesn't have the other's mouth parting under his. 

It’s as they’re kissing, their lips sliding together with the same perfect fit they’ve had since they first met, that Akihiko draws out his fingers and fits his cock inside Ugetsu with the smoothness that only comes with familiarity. 

Being with Ugetsu, having him, in any capacity, is a blessing and a type of salvation higher than Akihiko can fully comprehend most of the time; but like this it’s best, sinking into his warmth and feeling his lips part open and let out a wail of pure pleasure against his skin, feeling the way he tightens his hold around Akihiko’s neck and digs his nails into his shoulders as if his body physically can’t contain the heat coursing through its veins. 

Akihiko buries his face on the curve between Ugetsu’s neck and shoulder, groans pure satisfaction on the edge of his collarbone. At the same time, he feels Ugetsu’s thighs wrap around his waist, pull him closer, and he sinks in all the way, and they moan together like the most intimate violin duet. 

Ugetsu is shattering in his arms, melting and unravelling, his face bright with desire, his eyes shining with the threat of tears; and for Akihiko, moving his hips and thrusting forward becomes a bigger priority than drawing his very breath. He wants to stay like this always, would do anything to stay here, with Ugetsu beautiful and warm and honest pressed up against his body, moaning songs with each snap of Akihiko’s hips against the back of his thighs. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Ugetsu whimpers, sings, melts. “You feel -”

Akihiko thrusts harder, deeper, cuts Ugetsu off at half, just for the satisfaction of seeing him throw his head back and cling tighter to him. 

“What?” he coaxes with teasing gentleness, nuzzles Ugetsu’s neck, keeps moving, sweat dripping from his forehead and pooling on the dip of the other’s collarbone. “What do I feel like?” he asks, because he wants to know, because Ugetsu is honest in his arms like he isn’t anywhere else, because his own pleasure comes far more from knowing he’s the one doing this to Ugetsu - knowing that all the flings and one-night stands and quick fucks will never be able to make Ugetsu feel this way, moan like this, let himself go and forget his own troubled mind like this. Knowing that, for all the taunts and teasing and snapping disdain he listens to daily, Akihiko is the only one for Ugetsu, as Ugetsu is the only one for him. Knowing the possession they have staked on each other is something that goes far deeper than the shallow contact of their bodies, something that reaches inside the chambers of their hearts. 

Ugetsu is panting, his voice broken, its edges softened by their shared warmth. “So  _ good _ ,” he moans out, carves trails of sharp pain down Akihiko’s shoulders and back as if trying to leave a mark, as if Akihiko’s entire existence isn’t marked by him already. 

“Yeah?” Akihiko grits out, fucks harder, pushes him against the mattress, doesn’t try to hide the sharp smile slashing up the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, beautiful.”

“So  _ impossibly good _ , god, Aki, I -” and he’s cut off again by the sweetest wail, his forehead creasing with the exertion of pleasure. “ _ Akihiko.” _

“Does anyone else make you feel like this?” Akihiko asks, taunts, bites at Ugetsu’s neck, on the soft skin under his jaw, feels his pulse on his tongue. “Hm?”

Ugetsu shakes his head immediately, the gesture an instinctive response to the absurdity of the claim. “No one,” comes the answer as a rush of warm air from his kiss-bruised lips, the honesty pouring straight from his heart, his eyes big and black and beautifully clear in the low light of the bedroom, “no one else is  _ enough _ , just you, just you -” 

“I’m not gonna let anyone else touch you,” Akihiko hisses between his teeth as he sinks in deeper, grabs Ugetsu’s thighs to hike them up higher, shift the angle until Ugetsu whines. “You’re  _ mine,  _ you hear?”

“ _ Yours _ ,” Ugetsu agrees breathlessly, bone-deep sincerity in every pleasure-induced lilt of his voice, the words coming out of him at the same pace as Akihiko's thrusts, "yours, yours,  _ Aki _ -"

"I love you," Akihiko says, his grip tightening on Ugetsu's thighs, his voice choked, "I love you, Ugetsu."

Ugetsu arches up, cries out again, digs his nails deep into Akihiko’s shoulders until he drags out a hiss of pain - and then he comes, untouched, his spine as gorgeous as the shape of a violin, his lips open to let out the most beautiful sounds Akihiko will ever hear in his life. Akihiko's heart is beating hard and desperate inside his ribcage to the point of being painful, and he thrusts in once more, and he's coming as well, his vision going white with the sharp explosion of pleasure tearing through his nerves for a handful of magnificent moments. 

When he comes back to himself, he's slumped on top of Ugetsu, who appears to be having an incredibly hard time taking back his grasp on reality. He slips out from inside of him, gathers all of his core strength and forces himself to do the bare minimum amount of movements necessary to lay down beside Ugetsu. 

They stay in silence for a few seconds, Ugetsu panting hard, his body shaking with the aftershocks, his beautiful hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his eyes glossy and hazy with the afterglow. He looks gorgeous and well-fucked and Akihiko loves him so much he thinks he might die. 

"Hey -" Akihiko starts, not knowing exactly what he wants so say, just to get those black eyes to stare at him instead of the ceiling, and Ugetsu shifts suddenly, and turns, and considers Akihiko with all the intensity of his most honest gaze. 

"I love you," Ugetsu whispers, soft and sweet and afraid, as if the words will escape and rush through the bedroom door if he speaks them any louder. 

Akihiko startles, and smiles, and wraps an arm around Ugetsu's waist to bring him closer until he rests his head on his chest. 

In a moment, Ugetsu will start bitching about something or other, because he never shuts the fuck up, will demand for Akihiko to carry him like a princess to the bathroom, and maybe they'll have a second round or maybe they'll just wash each other's hair and enjoy the warm water until one of them decides it's time to go back to sleep. And then Akihiko will wake up earlier, and make breakfast, and take Ugetsu's share to bed because he always limps a bit after they have sex and he always complains about it, so it's easier to just let him have breakfast in bed. And then Ugetsu will deliberately bite at the vicious scratches he left on Akihiko's shoulder, and they'll make small talk about the humidity and about duo violin practice, and their routine will go on as usual. 

In a moment. 

For now, Ugetsu has his head resting over Akihiko's heart, and Akihiko is content and sated, every inch of his body relaxed, the shared warmth between them enough to lull him towards a reality where everything is okay, just like this. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm a writer but i am NOT a writer of smut. this is like the third explicit sex fic i've ever written in my entire writing life so like. i have no experience on how this works. 
> 
> and ALSO thank you SO MUCH to ikaros for being the absolute kindest, sweetest, most supportive person in the world - thank you for listening to all my overanalysis outbursts about these two, thank you for being so enthusiastic, and here's your pre-gift <3


End file.
